


The Prince's Blade

by gingayellow



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-14 22:45:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13017738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingayellow/pseuds/gingayellow
Summary: Prince Takashi "Shiro" Shirogane of the Silver Kingdom was rescued from the wicked Emperor Zarkon not by a brave knight, but rather a mysterious Galra who shows him kindness and asks him to help fight for peace. Nearly a year later, Shiro finds himself in the middle of peace talks with the Galra Empire--and hoping to find the Galra who saved his life again. Could his mysterious new bodyguard be connected to that kind-hearted Galra? Said bodyguard won't even give Shiro his name (only his title, "Blade"), but his voice and behavior are so familiar...Maybe, if there weren't repeated attempts on Shiro's life, he would have time to find out. [Shiro/Keith, VERY indulgent fantasy AU. Content warnings are in the chapter headings. So are background ships, unless they wind up playing a moderate/large part in the story @_@]





	1. Prologue

Title: The Prince’s Blade (Prologue/?)  
Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender  
Characters/Pairing: Shiro/Keith  
Rating: PG-13  
Disclaimer: Not mine, anything mentioned here by name isn't mine  
Warnings: Mentioned torture, trauma, mentioned amputation, violence (I promise, this is going to be primarily romantic fluff, but there will be some dramah as well)  
Notes: Another fantasy AU, because I love fantasy AUs!

\--

Shiro’s sessions with Haggar always left him feeling more dead than alive, but he refused to let her or her blasted Druids sees him cry, or faint. He’d accepted that he was going to die here. But he could do one last thing for his grandfather and his people—die with the dignity that the Silver Kingdom’s ruling family demanded.

He just wished he could see his grandfather again… he was getting old, he needed someone to be there, and now he was going to be all alone…

Shiro wiped at his eyes with his left hand furiously when he heard footfalls. He took a breath, preparing himself for another round of Haggar’s abuse.

What he got instead was a young Galra man standing before him. Well, he assumed. The armor was Galra in design, but his face was hidden with a strange mask. The armor itself was a rich black, with no hints of the bold red and yellow accents that usually decorated Galra armor. This was designed for stealth, not intimidating enemies in open combat.

Still, he was here. Among the people who were trying to ruin Shiro’s grandfather, his country, and that meant he was still a danger. “If you’re here to taunt me, spare it,” he spat out with what remained of his courage. “Whatever you had to say, I already heard as Haggar sucked the life out of me.”

The young man was motionless. “You are Prince Takashi. The heir to the Silver Kingdom.”

“That’s right. Why else would they be torturing me for information, instead of killing me the instant they captured me?” Honestly, he was surprised that they hadn’t killed him when they realized that he wasn’t going to immediately ell out his people, like most spoiled noblemen who entered combat. But Grandpa had made sure Shiro understood that being a Prince wasn’t about wealth or power. It was about serving the people. Even at the cost of your own life.

“I…” The young man glanced around their surroundings. “I have to get you out of here.” 

Shiro was so used to being taunted for being weak, useless that hearing someone want to help was a shock. So much so that he didn’t really register the Galra unlocking the cell, helping him up, and wrapping him up in some strange cloak. The fabric didn’t feel natural.

“It’s a cloak,” the Galra explained, voice filtered through that mysterious mask. “It was meant to hide… something else, but you’re far more important than what I came for.” He must have just noticed that Shiro was missing an arm (a grim reminder of one of his multiple attempts at escape). “Here. I will help you.”

“Thanks, I guess.” There was always a chance that this stranger was going to betray him… but the Galra had no need to be this nuanced in their tortures. And there was something in this stranger’s tone, even with the metallic echo to it. He seemed genuinely upset at what had happened to Shiro, and wanted to protect him.

No one had wanted to do that for a long time.

So he decided to allow the Galra to wrap him up. He also didn’t resist when the Galra took his left hand, and led him out of the prison.

\--

The cloak had made his surroundings hazy, but he felt the chill of the night air for the first time in months. When the Galra removed the cloak…

The stars were so clear, so bright that it hurt his eyes. He took a breath to steady himself, but it came out as a sob instead.

“Sir, I understand you’re exhausted.” The Galra was a master at understatement. “But we need to leave before they realize you’ve escaped. I will escort you to your kingdom’s borders, if you desire.”

“Yes. Yes, please.” He’d been locked away and taken apart for months. There was no way he would survive the trek home unless someone was there to protect him. The Galra took his hand again, and led him to a machine that was far more complex than anything they had back home. He was curious. Hunk and Pidge probably would have speculating how they could build it themselves.

“Let me help you up.” The stranger did just that, then hopped up himself. He waited until Shiro wrapped his arm around his waist before starting.

Shiro yelped when the machine started, but after that, it wasn’t too different from being on a (very, very fast) horse. “Thank you.” He owed this Galra a debt he could never fully repay.

“I’ve read about your exploits. You’re a good man, and exactly the type of person this world needs,” the Galra said. “I’m glad to have met you, sir.”

Shiro almost smiled. He’d been free for only a few minutes, and already was dealing with the more annoying parts of being a prince again. “You know, you could call me Shiro.”

The stranger tensed. “I’ve been trained to see hierarchies as absolute. I don’t think I could ever do that.” 

Shiro huffed. “Fine. I’ll allow it.” For now. “What about your name?”

“I have no name.”

“Of course you don’t.” Shiro couldn’t blame him, though. He had a mission that he had compromised to save Shiro. Some secrecy was needed.

\--

They rode until the sun began to rise. Shiro was fighting exhaustion in every form, but he refused to shut his eyes until he saw the Silver Banner flapping in the wind. When he finally did, he cried again—harsh sob that left him aching. Thankfully, the stranger didn’t say anything, remaining a steady presence for Shiro to cling to as they kept on their course.

“Sir,” he finally said, whisper soft. “I’ll help you down.” Shiro was too tired to even consider refusing.

“I keep repeating myself, but thank you,” Shiro said after he took a moment to collect himself. Soldiers would be here soon, and he needed to be Prince Takashi, not a weepy mess. “If there’s anything I can do for you, ask.”

“I need nothing,” the stranger said. “But,” and now he put a gloved hand on Shiro’s shoulder. “Please remember that there are those, even among the Galra, who believe in you and your grandfather’s cause. And one day, we will be there to help you in ushering an era of true peace.”

Shiro nodded. “Of course. If you and I…”

But the Galra was gone.

\--

Shiro’s grandfather was a six-foot-six warrior king who still participated in the Were Hippo’s Wrestling Tournaments for fun. He also wept violently over Shiro for nearly a week as Hunk and the Holt siblings fashioned him a metal arm. It wasn’t as sophisticated as anything the Galra had, but it worked. Pidge kept talking about making a combat mode, but not until Shiro fully recovered.

Roughly six month later, the king led a raid. The king later said it was the strangest thing: as they stormed the castle, most of the guards were already dead. The only evidence as to their murderers was a note that stated simply, _The Blade of Mamora is with the Silver Kingdom._

The king sought them out, and judged them to be sincere. Together, they attacked where the Emperor was hiding, except he was already dead, stabbed from a weapon that neither the king or the Blades could recognize.

\--

Three months after that, Prince Lotor said he was willing to negotiate a peace treaty. King Tsuyoshi Shirogane noted the strange sword at Lotor’s side, but said nothing of it.

He did, however, contact the Blades. They had helped him in the war’s last stages, and after comparing their tactics to what his grandson had described, he was positive they had saved Shiro. He needed their help if he was going to bring a lasting peace to not just his kingdom, but the region. 

\--

Final Notes: I have a LOT of fic I need to be writing, but this idea hit me really hard. ;; Again, never expect a regular update schedule from me, but: I’ll try to have a chapter out once a week or so.

I haven’t listened to Josh Keaton’s interview on the Let’s Voltron podcast yet because I’ve been feeling yucky lately, but I have been reading reactions, and I like the “Shiro was raised by his grandfather” hc, so I’m using that here! I named him Tsuyoshi because that’s the name of Aka Ranger from Go Ranger, who is the VERY first Red Ranger in Super Sentai. (Because “The Voltron Show” told me it’s cool to do Power Ranger in my Voltron fic, thank you Voltron, thank you Coran on a Space High).


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro finds the Galra who saved his life. But then things get complicated.

Title: The Prince’s Blade (1/?)  
Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender  
Characters/Pairing: Shiro/Keith. Background Hunk/Shay, at least for now.  
Rating: PG-13  
Disclaimer: Not mine, anything mentioned here by name isn't mine  
Warnings: Alluded to trauma. Also, I am most definitely not using the Dads of Mamora hc in this story, just fyi.  
Notes: Another fantasy AU, because I love fantasy AUs!

\--

“Shiro, are you positive that you can handle being on your own?” Hunk fretted as he made some final adjustments to Shiro’s mechanical arm. “Because I can make an excuse for you. I’ll be in the audience---it you wave your right hand, I’ll come and—”

“I’ll be fine, Hunk,” Shiro assured him. “But thank you.” Hunk had been invaluable in those bleak first months after Shiro had been rescued from Galra captivity—but hadn’t had the strength to leave his room. Hunk had kept him fed, clothed, and even helped in the creation of Shiro’s prosthetic arm. But Hunk also had his own career and his own spouse (a farmer named Shay) waiting for him back home. It was unfair to impose on him any more than he already had. “Besides, we’re still at the ‘wine and dine’ stage of diplomacy. All I have to do is smile and be polite.”

Hunk nodded, eyes fixed on Shiro’s metal fingers. “If you say so. But if you need me, call.” Hunk very gently bent each digit, making sure there was no stiffness in the artificial joints. “Shay says that goes double for her, by the way.” 

“And I do appreciate it, but please, don’t worry.” Now came the arm’s final test as Shiro fastened his cloak around his shoulders. He was still a little clumsy, trying relearn motions with a new arm, but he was able to complete the action with no complications. “Negotiating a peace with the Galra won’t be easy, but there are people in the Empire who believe we can end this war.” Shiro stared down at his right hand. “One of them risked his life to save me.”

“Yeah, I know. You only told me, like, a bazillion times,” Hunk reminded him. Then his features grew serious. “Do you really think the guy who saved you will be here?”

“I’m sure,” Shiro said without a shred of doubt. If the Galra’s commitment to peace had been so strong that he had sacrificed whatever his original goal to save the heir to a kingdom that had been at war with the Galra Empire since his grandfather was a young man, then of course he would be here. “And then I can finally thank him. Maybe even learn his name and see his face.”

“Maybe even ask him out to dinner?”

Shiro huffed. “You’ve read too many novels, Hunk.”

Hunk shrugged. “It’s true, though! Shay saved my life when I fell out of that tree and nearly broke my neck. So, I did the sensible thing and made her dinner after I recovered. Next thing I know, we’re married.”

“Well, I’m glad things worked out well for you and Shay, but this stranger seemed…very focused on the mission. I don’t think he’s the type to indulge in romance.” Still, Shiro hoped he would see among the various Galra, both nobles and commoners, that were beginning to visit foreign countries for the first time in their lives.

The Galra had saved his life, asking only that Shiro work to establish a peace. Shiro wanted to show him that his sacrifice was not in vain.

\--

“My boy!” Shiro’s grandfather, King Tsuyoshi the Thunderous, bellowed cheerfully from across the banquet hall. “C’mere!”

Shiro smiled. His grandfather was not known for his formal nature, but he still managed to create an event where everyone seemed comfortable. “Good morning, Grandfather. Did you have a chance to read my notes?”

“Yes, and as usual, you’ve wowed me with your brilliance,” Grandfather said as he slapped Shiro on the back hard enough to make him falter a step—his typical reaction when he was impressed with you. "You’ll have everybody here getting along by sundown, I just know it!”

“Grandfather, you know better than anyone how complicated peace talks are.” But Shiro had to smile. “But thank you for the vote of confidence.” Speaking of peace talks, it seemed as if Grandfather had already done some work of his own, as a middle-aged Galra man strode up to them.

He was definitely too tall to be the Galra who rescued Shiro. But there was something in his body language that was very familiar.

“Ah. Shiro, this is Kolivan, leader of the Blade of Mamora,” Grandfather said.

Shiro took Kolivan’s arm in a formal Galra greeting. “I’ve bene following your work with my Grandfather. You and your people are to thank for ending the reign of Emperor Zarkon.” None of them said what they were thinking: that the new ruler, Lotor, could possibly be worse. But Lotor was ruling an Empire that had been pushed to its brink because of Zarkon’s selfish desires, so continuing the war (At least for now) was impossible. If Lotor was going to make a move it, would be as a diplomat first.

Kolivan nodded. “I am. I have also assigned a bodyguard to you.”

Wait. What? “I… I’m sure you mean well, but I’m a general in my country’s army. I can take care of myself.”

“You’re also our last chance for peace.” Kolivan’s tone left no room for argument. “The Blade will not allow that chance to die because you were foolhardy enough to think no one would think of harming you.”

Shiro took a breath, reminding himself to not let anger stain his tone. “I assure you, I am fully aware—”

“Takashi.” Grandfather only used his real name when things were serious. “Kolivan and I agreed on this together.”

“And you didn’t consult me?!” Now he really was angry. “Grandfather, I’m a grown man. I can take care of myself.”

“I know,” and it was one of those rare times Grandfather actually looked old. “But Shiro, this is new territory, for both of us.” He placed a heavy hand on Shiro’s shoulder. “I would feel so much better if you had just one Blade looking out for you.”

Nothing else had to be said. Not when Grandfather’s voice was so soft, like it was months ago. Months ago, when Shiro was bedridden and Grandfather was asking Hunk if there was **anything** he could do to help.

“Then I accept. But just one.” Anymore might get in the way of his secret side mission of finding the Galra who saved his life.

\--

A few hours of meeting other nobles and diplomats later, Shiro found himself on the edges of the Castle grounds, at the old fortress where the Blade was currently lodging. He was supposed to find someone named Antok, who would introduce him to his bodyguard, but no one else seemed to be here.

Hmm. What a shame.

Still, he wanted to keep Grandfather happy, so Shiro investigated the back yard. There were so many trees, it was possible he missed someone—

**_You will make no further mistakes. You will not deviate from the course Kolivan and I selected for you. From this moment on, your life is only about protecting him. Serving him. You will not talk to him, unless it’s answering a question. You are unimportant. And why is that?_ **

**_Because I am nothing._ **

It all felt wrong. The conversation, how the second voice seemed so calm about it all, and… and how familiar that voice was.

Shiro had found his Galra. And his Galra needed him.

“Excuse me.” Both of them were dressed in black, similar to Kolivan. Both of them were masked. “I’m Prince Takashi Shirogane, and I’m looking for an Antok?”

The larger Blade grunted. “I am Antok.” He motioned to the smaller Galra. “This is your bodyguard. You will refer to him as ‘Blade.’ He will defend you, even at the cost of his own life. If you have further questions, he will answer them.” And then, Antok disappeared into the trees.

Shiro sighed in relief. “I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner. But don’t worry, I won’t let Antok speak to you that way ever again. Or anyone else, for that matter.” 

His Galra didn’t reply.

“Hey.” His memories of captivity were…fuzzy, but Shiro remembered that his Galra believed in order. “I know things like rules are important to you, but it’s me. The prince you rescued, remember?” Shiro did his best to smile. “I promise, you’ve earned the right to talk to me.”

His Galra didn’t reply.

Desperate, Shiro finally asked a blasted question. “Will you at least tell me your name?”

“I am Blade. Anyone who is not a Commander in our order is a Blade. Now, please follow me to the Castle, sir.”

Shiro frowned, but obeyed. He understood the importance of patience, and he was going to need it if he was going to actually figure out how to repay his protector.

Because while Blade may have thought he was nothing, he was why Shiro wasn’t currently rotting in a Galra cell, or worse. He owed everything to this Blade.

And he would make Blade realize just how much he was needed in the universe, no matter what.


	3. Chapter 2

Title: The Prince’s Blade (2/?)  
Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender  
Characters/Pairing: Shiro/Keith. Background Hunk/Shay, at least for now.  
Rating: PG-13  
Disclaimer: Not mine, anything mentioned here by name isn't mine  
Warnings: Alluded to trauma. Parental death mentions.  
Notes: The boys are awkward, and just seem to fall into ott situations.

\--

Shiro reviewed his notes one more time. The people he would being negotiations with tomorrow were all his equal (if not his superior) when it came to diplomacy. Prince Lotor, of course, was the biggest threat. While Shiro doubted he wanted to have another war, he was also aware that Lotor was in the middle of consolidating power… and doing away with any possible claims to his throne. He would take as much as he could, so he would look strong to his people. That would involve saber rattling that would infuriate Princess Allura. Allura was known for her strength and wits in both war and strategy. However, her parents had been killed by Galra, which led to her becoming the youngest general in Altea’s history. There was a personal bias there that Shiro would have to remain aware of. Still, Allura was a reasonable young woman. Once she met the Blade of Mamora, she would realize that not every Galra was innately evil.

Then he remembered Antok, and reconsidered that.

“Sir,” Blade said softly. “It is getting late. You should rest.”

Shiro didn’t look away from his work. “I thought you only spoke when I asked you something, Blade.”

He could feel Blade’s gaze on him. “I speak when my charge is in danger. That involves overworking himself.” After a moment, he was in a practiced cool tone, “But if you prefer I remain silent, I shall obey—” 

“No. No, I’m sorry, I’m overtired and I didn’t think.” Shiro rubbed his eyes with his left head. “I just. I know you rescued me. I recognize your stance, and your voice. Why can’t you just… act like you did before?” Before, Blade had believed in a constructed order, but not that this meant he was nothing. He’d treated Shiro like a real person—not the prince on a pedestal, or a prisoner to toy with. It had been brief, just a few hours, but Shiro still missed it sincerely. 

“You must understand sir, there are no individuals in the Blade of Mamora, save for our leaders,” Blade explained. “I didn’t save you. A Blade saved the Prince of the Silver Kingdom. That is all.”

That was all. The moments that has given Shiro his life back was just part of politics. Once again, it was all about how useful he was to someone. The second he wasn’t, he wasn’t Shiro anymore. “Fine. But I have a question, and you better answer it.”

“Of course.”

“If it meant nothing to you, why did you give up your mission to save me?”

“Because…” Blade paused. “It wasn’t right. You’re a good man; you deserve better. But,” and the practiced formality returned, “as Antok and Kolivan reminded me, trust is not built on feelings.”

“Thank you. That is all, I wish to retire.” He did, however, plan to talk to Blade again in the morning. He needed to show him that the opposite was true. 

\--

“Good morning, Blade,” Shiro said the next morning. Blade said nothing in reply, but that was expected. Blade followed him obediently down the currently silent hallway (it was still early, and negotiations would not officially begin until the evening) and into the kitchen. “Get your knife; we’re running away from home today.”

“Sir?

“Not forever, I promise.” Shiro began packing a loaf of bread and some dried fruit into his sack. After that, he squeezed in two flasks of water. “But I though today might be a good day to get away from all of this and get into the real world for a bit.”

“In other words, all the places snobby nobles wouldn’t approve of.”

Blade caught on quickly. “Exactly. I’ve packed enough food for us both, so we can leave now.”

\--

“Sir, I’m going to point out again that if you give your food away, you won’t have any left to eat.”

“Really,” Shiro said as he waved good-bye to the children dashing back to their mother. “Because if I remember correctly, you did the same thing.”

“Galra can survive almost a week without provisions,” Blade informed him primly. “Humans cannot.”

“I’ll be fine.” He wasn’t going to lie, he was starving. But the children were also starving, and their mother looked exhausted. He’d spoken to her about her attempts to find work, and suggested a pub that needed help. He made a mental note to stop by later, and see how everyone was doing. 

Shiro had been leaning against an old fence. Now he stood up, stretching lazily. He wasn’t going to have a chance to rest when peace negotiations formally began this evening; he needed to take advantage of each remaining free moment. “Come, Blade. We have one more stop to make.”

“Which is?”

“We’re going to see my parents.”

\--

The royal burial grounds were the same as always. Quiet, neat, but neglected. It wasn’t anyone’s fault: between the war ending and trying to create a lasting peace, few had the time to visit their ancestors. 

Not too long ago, Shiro would make the journal with Grandfather once a week. But then the Galra had caught him, and Blade had rescued him, and visiting his parents’ graves seemed like just another reminder of how much the Galra had taken from him. That he’d never be truly safe.

“Sir.” Blade’s hand was on his shoulder. “If there’s some action you must perform her, perhaps I can do it for you.”

“Getting a little friendly with your charge, Blade? What would Kolivan thing?” He tried not to laugh when Blade huffed. “Thank you, but no. I have some things I need to say to them.” Blade nodded, and Shiro was grateful when he didn’t follow Shiro to their graves. This was something he needed to do alone.

“Good afternoon, Mother, Father,” he whispered to small stones that marked where his parents’ bones rested. “Forgive me for not visiting sooner. I was… I was hurt, in both body and mind.” He knelt, gently plucking the weeds from his mother’s headstone. “But Grandfather was there for me, as always. So were Hunk and Shay. I think I’m ready to help my people again.” He turned his attention to his father’s grave. “Um, also. There’s someone else looking out for me, but he’s a little shy,” he said in a whisper, just in case Blade could hear. “But he saved my life. I know he’s a good person, no matter what anyone says.” Not even the Blade of Mamora.

Shiro stood up, glancing as Blade. He was clad in the same armor he wore when he first saved Shiro: pitch black, with strange blue and purple lights on the chest. He wore a hood, and a black mask with blue lights, presumably so he could see.

Shiro wondered what he looked like under that mask. An unusually small Galra, of course, but Shiro knew that the Galra’s appearances were as varied as Humans or Balmerans. He doubted he would know anytime soon. Blade truly believed in Antok and Kolivan’s insistence that he was nothing. It would time to undo even some of that.

“Sir,” Blade said softly as Shiro rejoined him. “With your permission, I would like to ask a question.”

Well, that was a (welcome!) surprise. “Always.”

“Do…do you know where they bury the soldiers?”

“Near the mountains. It’s a bit of a walk, but if we started now, we could probably make it.”

“No, sir,” Blade said quickly. “I just—nevermind, it doesn’t matter.”

“Nonsense.” Shiro knew that he was being stubborn, but if there was even a small chance to repay Blade for his help, he was going to take it. “I mean, what could possibly happen that would impede us?”

Suddenly, there were half a dozen armed Galra before them. “We’re here to kill Prince Takashi Shirogane,” the leader said, much too calm for his own good.

“I deserved that,” Shiro said, equally calm as he and Blade reached for their weapons.


End file.
